


Accessorize for the Job You Want (Not the Job You Have)

by midnightstreet



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Humor, M/M, Oral Sex, Patrick has some handyman roleplay in his future, Second-Hand Embarrassment, just give him 10 or 15 years to get over this trauma, no denim was harmed in the making of this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:41:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26069653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightstreet/pseuds/midnightstreet
Summary: Little fill for RQ's prompt:Marcy or Clint, or both, walk in on David and Patrick in a compromising position
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 37
Kudos: 158
Collections: The Rosebudd Ficlets





	Accessorize for the Job You Want (Not the Job You Have)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RhetoricalQuestions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhetoricalQuestions/gifts).



> Super unbeta'ed

David could feel it in his fucking _toes_ , the orgasm that was about to tear out of him coming up hard and fast. Patrick moaned and slurped like a porn star - _appropriate,_ David thought, _since the tool belt Patrick had donned was giving him_ many _exciting new roleplay scenario ideas_ \- there on his knees on the oil-stained garage floor. It was disgusting, and David made a mental note to inspect the soles of his shoes before remembering that, yes, his dick was down his husband’s throat and he’d better get on with coming before they were discovered—

David _thought_ he was coming, but was probably just having a minor heart attack. 

His _mother in law_ ( _god, what had he done to deserve this? Had he killed_ puppies _in a past life??_ ), sweet, sweet Marcy, who had taken to calling him _sweetheart_ and never failed to have no fewer than _three pies_ waiting for him every visit, stood in the doorway that led out from the house, laundry basket dropped at her feet. 

Maybe if David stood perfectly still, she wouldn’t be able to see him. That was a thing, right? Or did that only work with bears? Dinosaurs? _It applied to_ something, _god dammit,_ he told the voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Stevie, _and his brain didn’t exactly have any capacity left at this particular moment to figure it out!_

(Stevie could never, _ever_ find out about this.)

He batted frantically at his husband’s head - earning him a grunt and a glare - before realizing that Patrick moving his head might _perhaps_ not be the best way to retain the shreds of modesty and dignity David was desperately clinging to. Instead he gripped Patrick’s neck, getting him to just barely pull off David’s dick but not move his head any more than was required to look up into David’s eyes and see the utter _panic_ written all over his face. David draped his arms over Patrick’s shoulders and tried to play it cool. 

“Marcy! Hi! We were just, um. My. My zipper got stuck! And what with that handy tool belt I figured your son was the right person to handle the job!”

David looked down to find he was wearing joggers. 

_Fuck._

Marcy cleared her throat as Patrick tried to make his forehead become one with David’s abdomen. 

“Oh yes, I’m sure he’s got the right _tool_ for the job!” Marcy managed to get out before bursting into hysterical laughter. She kept going until she was doubled over, tears leaking from her eyes. 

David considered how far he could run with his pants around his knees. 

Finally Marcy cleared her throat again, coming back to herself and slapping one hand over her eyes. She started to turn around, other hand grasping the doorknob. “Boys, I know what my son on his knees in front of his husband means,” she said, peering through her fingers to give David a pointed look, “but Patrick, that floor is absolutely filthy. Please throw those jeans in with this load and get the machine started before you get any grease on my furniture.” Marcy gestured down at the dropped laundry basket before going back inside, the door closing with a decisive _click_.

**Author's Note:**

> Later, over a **very** awkward family dinner, Marcy reminds Clint that he had promised _weeks_ ago to clean the garage floor.


End file.
